


Forgotten Shadows

by FaeMytho



Category: Undertale Multiverse (UTMV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Fantasy AU, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Unnecessary worldbuilding, yes im aware this sounds like a ya novel lol that was the goal ♥
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeMytho/pseuds/FaeMytho
Summary: Dayim Solana, a homeless peasant thief, breaks into the Temple of Oana with intentions of retrieving an incorrectly dedicated statue. He escapes with much more than he bargained for, and unknowingly saddles himself with a mission to revive Neoma, the forgotten, nearly dead, true goddess of the night.Guiding him from the shadows, Neoma instructs Dayim to gather the remaining Nightshine relics, golden and silver crafted statues that could make a peasant like Dayim rich in an instant. But Neoma's unusual familiarity with Dayim, along with her refusal to answer his questions, begins to weigh its toll on the thief, and he can't help but begin to wonder if Neoma was forgotten for a reason.His dreams suggest otherwise, and he's no longer sure who to trust.What once seemed like a simple mission quickly begins to devolve into so much more, and Dayim must make a choice between the fate of his country, or the goddess who knows him just a little too well, the goddess who knows how to make him laugh, the goddess who soothes his nightmares away in the dead of night, the goddess who protects him.The goddess who might just destroy everything he ever knew.
Relationships: Dream Sans/Nightmare Sans (UTMV)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Forgotten Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> if you're coming here from the tumblr post, then you'll know that this entire story spawned off one little dreammare prompt! if you didn't come here from tumblr, well, now you know!
> 
> i honestly didn't expect my writing to spiral into so much more while i was writing this prompt, but i'm a little glad it did. i've got a lot planned and i'm really excited for you all to see it!
> 
> edit: YES I AM AWARE THIS SOUNDS LIKE A YA FICTION NOVEL LEAVE ME ALONE

The country of Umbra had known a history of thousands of years, but the Temple of Oana had only been standing in the center of the city of Eventide for a few hundred. It was carved of marble, tall and tiered, and its gardens were bathed in the autumn orange of the setting sun. Within the temple walls, the acolytes were in a panic.

Sprinting through the marble halls, Dayim dared not stop to even think, the loud tapping of his footsteps drowned out by echoing shouts. His gloved hands held tight to an old, golden statue, and it remained close to his chest over his mad dash through Oana's sacred grounds. The thief turned down a long hall and continued to run, mind set only on escaping and not getting caught. Irritating as it was to be spotted, there was no way he’d be letting the temple take back what it had stolen.

The frenzied shouting of his pursuers had garnered the attention of nearly every acolyte in the temple, and Dayim skidded to a stop, eyes narrowed and sharp. Crepuscular guards rushed down the hall towards him, and behind, Oana's acolytes were gaining. To his right was nothing but a pure white marble wall. To his left was a stained glass window, a very bad idea, and a split second decision.

"Tell the Priest I said hi!" Dayim exclaimed, before turning and lunging towards the intricate depiction of Oana hanging the stars in the sky.

The jarring force of shattering glass was very worth the looks on the guards and acolytes' faces as he fell through the air, grinning brightly as wind whipped through the short brown curls that framed his face. Before he hit the ground, he turned and tucked the golden relic close to his chest, doing his best to brace for the incoming impact. As he rolled, pain bloomed like a flower through him, and he knew he hadn't done it right. Through the shock of the pain, he managed to scramble to his feet and stumble into a run.

Ducking around the large apple tree in the center walkway of the temple gardens, Dayim booked it for the town marketplace. If he could get lost among the crowd of people, there was a chance he could actually get away with the golden statue, despite having been spotted taking it. The marble outer walls of the temple drew closer and closer, and he could almost feel the sweet embrace of freedom. His legs were aching, his chest nearly creaking with every breath, but he was almost _there_.

His tunic was snagged from behind, and he couldn't breathe, the fabric at his throat sealing off his air. Though he gasped and choked for breath, he dared not drop the relic he had risked his life to steal. Its true owner deserved that much.

"Tell the Priest hi yourself," the guard holding him sneered. Choking, he was hauled off his feet and forced to the ground. The boots of Crepuscular guards surrounded him, and he sighed, falling limp in their grasp. Fighting back now would only get him beat up. Tearing an empty, hopeless void in his chest as they did so, they snatched the relic from his hands and tied his wrists together. Dayim was forced to march back into the temple to face its Priest. Though his pride was bruised and the relic had been stolen back, he held his head high.

The guards marched him through marble halls, past the great gathering hall and into the heart of Oana's sacred grounds. With every step deeper into the temple, Dayim couldn't help but tremble, taking a deep breath. The air here felt tense and sick, pervaded with a deep sense of wrong.

The Priest stood behind the altar, chanting lowly in Anc. Their hands were splayed on the marble slab, and their eyes were closed, their voice echoing through the chapel. The droning chant just barely masked the sounds of their approach, but it could not cover the reverberating thud as Dayim was forced painfully to his knees. Grunting, he let the pain settle before looking up and taking in the rest of the room. The exit was directly behind him, but with his wrists tied behind his back and the guards beside him, he had a slim chance of escape. He'd never felt more trapped and humiliated, forced to kneel before the altar of a goddess he did not consider himself beholden to.

"High Priest," a guard spoke, and the Priest abruptly silenced themself. "We caught the thief and retrieved the object he stole."

The Priest's eyes fluttered, and their head dropped back, releasing a deep sigh. "Next time, captain, do not interrupt me. Oana is displeased with the thievery of her possessions, and I must placate her wrath with prayer and faith."

Despite the tight fear in his chest, Dayim couldn't help a scoff. "You were praying? Your pronunciation of Anc is terrible. I could hardly understand it."

The Priest raised a brow. Leaning forward on the altar, they regarding Dayim with cold eyes. "You claim to have a better understanding of Anc than I, a Priest who spends most of their time regarding the ancient texts and scriptures of the Gods?"

Kneeling on the cold, marble floor with his hands tied behind his back and the means of escape slipping further and further away, Dayim grinned. "Yeah. For example, you're supposed to pronounce it like ' _preya al te Oana_ '. And if you could actually read Anc, you'd know that the symbols written on the base of the statuette I stole indicate an entirely different goddess."

The Priest's eyes narrowed sharply, but they beckoned the captain forward. The Crepuscular guard stepped forward and placed the golden statue on the altar. Gently taking the relic, the Priest stepped around to the front of the altar, their eyes scanning the inscription. Coming to a stop, they clicked their tongue, looking down at Dayim once more.

"This reads, ' _Deyli shina al te Niyam_ '. 'Day shines unto the night'. Now, as Oana oversees twilight, and thus, the coming of night, I can't imagine who else this could be referring to," Oana's Priest spoke, their voice haunting and echoing through the chapel. They turned their back, and they clicked their tongue, placing the relic back in its place on the altar. "You will be imprisoned for stealing from our goddess. There will be blood for your blasphemous actions."

"The inscription indicates _Neoma_ , not Oana!" Dayim struggled to stand, only to be forced back down to the marble floor with a pained grunt. Still, he grit his teeth and shouted. "You're dedicating another god's property to her!"

"Cease your incessant blathering," Oana's Priest snapped. They did not turn to face Dayim, but tilted their head in a mockery of the way one listened fairly to another. "There is no Neoma. No such god exists. Now, like it or not, you poor excuse of a use for space, Oana oversees the town of Eventide, and Oana oversees the night. We are beholden to her and she watches over us. Your made-up, blasphemous god does not change that."

"But it doesn't belong to you!" Dayim burst out. Unable to stop himself, he struggled to stand again, his voice becoming frantic and shrill. "It doesn't belong to Oana! It doesn't belong here!"

"Silence him!"

Along with his aching back, more pain burst from the kick to his side, and he choked on his next words, gasping for breath. Finally, the Priest turned and looked down upon him, their eyes hard and furious. Though shame and fury rushed through him, he couldn't do much more than try to draw in the air that had been forced from his lungs. "What could a _peasant thief_ possibly know about the gods? You dare to think your word holds any weight against mine?"

Dayim grit his teeth and opened his mouth to retort, but the Priest was barking out more words before he could, this time to the Crepuscular guards. "Get him out of here; I want his filthy recreant body to cease any further desecration of Oana's sacred temple. I want him executed for heresy and blasphemy against Oana!"

The guards grabbed Dayim under each shoulder, hauling him up to his feet. Struggling against the grip of the guards, he opened his mouth to shout, yell, scream something, but as soon as the first syllable rested on his tongue, liquid darkness poured from his mouth. Both guards yelped and let go of Dayim, backing away from the voluminous shadow that was now rapidly spreading through the room. Oana's Priest shrieked their dismay as the candles were snuffed in a great gust of air, and then, the chapel was full of darkness.

For a moment, Dayim was frozen. His mouth tingled with the taste of shadow, of night air and gentle pine and the faintest wisp of apple, but as he regained his senses, he began to realize that he could see, and the guards could not. They stumbled away from him in the darkness, shouting about freezing, blinding fog as Oana's Priest demanded to know what was going on. The Priest shrieked for answers, for light, the guards shouted for orders and some semblance of order, and Dayim stood right in the middle of it all.

Knowing an opportunity when he saw it, Dayim dashed towards the altar, snatching the golden relic. Before the guards could even begin to fathom their surroundings, Dayim ran from Oana's now darkened, shadowed chapel.

* * *

The streets were never completely empty at night, and Dayim silently sent up a word of thanks to Felixa for his luck. As long as he kept his head down, he'd be able to stay low and out of the attention of the guards. Lightly dodging and weaving mindlessly around the stragglers of the evening, he let his thoughts run wild, fiddling with the twine that held his wrists together.

Typically, shadows and darkness did not pour from one's mouth. He could still taste the apple and pine, so he was fairly certain that what had happened had indeed truly happened. But how in the great name of Mundus did shadows and darkness come from one's mouth?

Successfully untwisting the twine, he slipped it in his pocket with the statue. His thoughts turned to Neoma, and he sighed. Though he was not holding it, the statue was clear in his mind's eye. That particular relic hadn't been the only one wrongly given to Oana, the goddess of evening and stars.

Dayim ducked into an alley, between the inn and the butcher's shop. He made his way past the scraps of trash that littered the ground, and climbed up onto the trash bin. From there, he gripped the stones of the inn, and climbed his way up to the small, little hole in the roof.

The attic of the inn was nearly abandoned, dusty and old and full of boxes. Once he'd squeezed inside, he pinned up the sheet that covered the hole and moved a couple boxes in front of it. Sighing, Dayim turned to the little corner he'd made into a home for himself and very gently plucked the statue from his pocket. His gaze rested on his makeshift altar, surrounded by gently crafted pieces of gold and silver, and he placed the newest relic among them. Selling any one of those would have made him rich in an instant, but when he thought of Neoma, the forgotten goddess of night, he couldn't bring himself to even think of it.

With the fifth relic safely in its place on the altar, Dayim lay down on the pile of blankets. 

"Neoma," he murmured, ignoring the gnawing hunger in his stomach as his eyes began to droop. He would rather live in squalor than to betray the trust of this god for something as finite as comfort. "I swear to you, I'll find out why we've forgotten you."

Not expecting an answer, he closed his eyes. Though before he slipped into the soft embrace of sleep, a voice, soft as silk and quiet as shadow, whispered gently to him.

' _I look forward to meeting you, my Dream._ '


End file.
